


Duty of Care

by Killermanatee



Series: Something Real [10]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: 5 Times, 5 plus 1, Domestic Fluff, I love these two forever, M/M, Sickfic, taking care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 00:57:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20733605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Killermanatee/pseuds/Killermanatee
Summary: Five times Phil takes care of Chris and one time Chris gets to return the favor.(Utterly domestic fluff)





	Duty of Care

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IceCream_Junkie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceCream_Junkie/gifts).

> IceCream_Junkie and I are both sick. Thought I'd make the best of it.  
This is what happened.

**-1-**

“Need a minute.”

Concern makes Phil step closer to where Chris is standing with his forehead against his arms.

“How much did you have to drink?”

“Don’ know,” Chris twists his head to look at Phil with glassy eyes. “’twas tasty.” He shows off a lopsided grin. “Not ‘s tasty as you though.”

Phil laughs at that. “You never stop, do you?

It takes Chris a moment to push back off the wall and find his equilibrium. Phil watches, ready to reach for Chris should he fall over. When he brushes back his blonde hair, he tilts dangerously but then looks back at Phil with unexpected intensity.

“I never stop an’ you like it,” he says with a surprising amount of suave for a man who can barely stand. He takes a step closer and Phil’s pulse speeds up.

Fuck, he’s such a lost cause, head over heels.

It’s somewhat ironic that Chris chooses this - at least for Phil - profound moment to mumble ‘oh shit’ before he spins around just in time to throw up.

Phil sighs and rubs circles on Chris’s back.

“Come on, I’ll take you home.” He says and wipes Chris’ lips with a napkin.

** -2-**

“Just fix it.”

“Then hold still already!” Phil hisses, ignoring all his training on interacting with stubborn patients like Lieutenant Christopher Pike. “You have a ruptured spleen, dislocated shoulder, three fractured ribs and eight torn tendons. I can’t just _fix it_.”

He’s used to Chris being reckless, but this is downright dangerous.

Phil takes a deep breath. “You need surgery,” he says quietly, “I can set your shoulder and give you something for the pain, but the longer you stay up here, the more difficult it will be to properly heal all of your injuries.”

Chris turns in his chair, looking up with blood-shot eyes. “I can’t leave the helm, Phil. What if they come back?”

The implication of _why_ he is the only one still capable of flying this wreck of a ship weighs heavy on Phil, and he swallows.

“Okay,” he says and finds the right spots for his hands on Chris’s shoulder. “This is going to hurt.”

Chris only winces quietly when his joint is pushed into place, and rolls his neck when Phil administers the hypo. Phil is about to step away when Chris grasps his hand. The gesture is short and simple and just enough.

** -3-**

“I think I’m dying.”

“You have the Andorian flu. You’ll be fine.”

Chris turns away from Phil and mumbles “How’d you know?” into the pillow, with a hint of petulance.

“Because I am a physician with twenty years of experience.” Phil tries to keep the grin off his face, but it’s not easy when Chris is being dramatic. “And because I personally scanned you yesterday and gave you a hypo.”

Rolling to his side, Phil looks at the back of his partner’s head; only the mess of dark grey hair is visible over the pulled-up comforter.

“But,” Phil yields and scoots closer, sliding a hand onto Chris’ warm chest, “I am going to make you a pot of soup.” He noses the comforter aside and kisses Chris’ shoulder.

“With extra noodles?” Chris’ voice is less whiney, and he entwines their fingers, pulling Phil closer against him.

“Yes, with extra noodles. I’ll even leave out the brussel sprouts, despite my better judgement.”

Chris sighs and pulls their joined hands up to kiss Phil’s knuckles.

“You _do_ love me,” he mumbles, and Phil is happy to hear the teasing undertone.

He kisses Chris’ shoulder again. “Yeah, guess I can’t help it.”

** -4-**

“It fucking hurts.”

“Well, that’s what happens when you ignore your doctor’s orders.” Phil knows he is being snippy but it’s really hard not to be when he’s been dealing with Chris’ pigheadedness for half his life. At least he’s still doing his stretches.

“I just don’t understand where I’m supposed to be getting an overuse injury from. It’s not like I have changed my routine.”

Phil sighs. “Your exercises haven’t changed, but you have.”

Chris frowns. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Deliberately choosing a softer tone Phil answers, “It means that while you are still in incredible shape, you’re also about to turn fourty.”

The words hang between them for a moment and Phil wonders if he’s underestimating how much the number is bothering Chris. As a doctor, he’s maintained the baseline of what Starfleet expected of him, done his best to stay healthy, but to Chris being exceptionally fit has always been much more important.

“Take a hot shower. I’ll have dinner ready when you’re done,” Phil offers gently, reaching out for Chris’ hand, glad to feel a responding squeeze. “Then we’ll talk about alternatives.” He smirks at that. “Maybe we can find some age-appropriate exercise we’ll both enjoy.”

** -5-**

“Fucking hell.”

The sound of Chris swearing under his breath makes Phil look up from his padd. Chris is holding on to the kitchen counter, head bowed. Even across the room and with his back turned towards him, Phil can see the tension running along his entire torso. Instantly he sets the padd aside and walks over.

“Spasm?” he just asks quietly and Chris nods, hands still tight on the counter. The cane is nowhere to be seen but Phil isn’t going to chastise. Maybe later, when Chris feels better, he can calmly explain again that the physical therapists handed Chris the cane for a reason; that it’s miracle enough he’s out of the wheelchair.

For now Phil pushes up Chris’ shirt, hands spanning his lower back. His thumbs press down on the rock-hard thoracolumbar fascia.

“Deep breaths,” Phil instructs gently, as he starts applying pressure to Chris’ back. It takes a few long minutes until the cramps loosen and he can see Chris’ arms straining as they carry most of his weight, his legs seemingly too weak to do their job.

Phil pulls Chris’ arm over his shoulder, securing him tightly to his side.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

**+1**

“I made you some more tea.”

Phil mumbles “Thank you,” and stretches his aching limbs before he adds, “You’re always so good to me.”

Chris strokes his cheek. “You deserve it.” He tucks the sheets more tightly around Phil. “And considering how many times you’ve taken care of me, I think you have more than earned to be on the receiving end. Anyway," he grins, "I think we have a legal document that tells me I have duty of care.”

Phil smiles at that. “Always the romantic, huh? Don’t forget you’re also entitled to half of my germs.”

“That too. Keep that in mind when I’ll be running a fever next week.” Chris brushes the hair of Phil’s forehead. “You need anything else?

Phil shakes his head. “I think I’m okay. I just need some more sleep.”

“I’ll be in the living room, so yell if you think of anything I can help with.” Chris is moving towards the bedroom door.

“Duty of care, huh?” Phil repeats, making Chris stop and turn around.

“You know I was kidding, right?”

“I know,” Phil answers, eyes already feeling heavy, “but I think I like it.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, I hope you'll let me know. ;) 
> 
> No seriously, if you like this, please check out the Boyce/Pike works by [imachar](https://archiveofourown.org/works?utf8=%E2%9C%93&commit=Sort+and+Filter&work_search%5Bsort_column%5D=revised_at&include_work_search%5Brelationship_ids%5D%5B%5D=234215&work_search%5Bother_tag_names%5D=&work_search%5Bexcluded_tag_names%5D=&work_search%5Bcrossover%5D=&work_search%5Bcomplete%5D=&work_search%5Bwords_from%5D=&work_search%5Bwords_to%5D=&work_search%5Bdate_from%5D=&work_search%5Bdate_to%5D=&work_search%5Bquery%5D=&work_search%5Blanguage_id%5D=&fandom_id=601802&pseud_id=imachar&user_id=imachar), [nerdqueenenterprise](https://archiveofourown.org/works?utf8=%E2%9C%93&commit=Sort+and+Filter&work_search%5Bsort_column%5D=revised_at&include_work_search%5Brelationship_ids%5D%5B%5D=234215&work_search%5Bother_tag_names%5D=&work_search%5Bexcluded_tag_names%5D=&work_search%5Bcrossover%5D=&work_search%5Bcomplete%5D=&work_search%5Bwords_from%5D=&work_search%5Bwords_to%5D=&work_search%5Bdate_from%5D=&work_search%5Bdate_to%5D=&work_search%5Bquery%5D=&work_search%5Blanguage_id%5D=&fandom_id=601802&pseud_id=nerdqueenenterprise&user_id=nerdqueenenterprise) and [gracieminabox](https://archiveofourown.org/works?utf8=%E2%9C%93&commit=Sort+and+Filter&work_search%5Bsort_column%5D=revised_at&include_work_search%5Brelationship_ids%5D%5B%5D=234215&work_search%5Bother_tag_names%5D=&work_search%5Bexcluded_tag_names%5D=&work_search%5Bcrossover%5D=&work_search%5Bcomplete%5D=&work_search%5Bwords_from%5D=&work_search%5Bwords_to%5D=&work_search%5Bdate_from%5D=&work_search%5Bdate_to%5D=&work_search%5Bquery%5D=&work_search%5Blanguage_id%5D=&fandom_id=601802&pseud_id=gracieminabox&user_id=gracieminabox).  
I would have never fallen down the rabbit hole that is this glorious pairing if it wasn't for their fantastic writing. 
> 
> Big thanks to [Miss_Mil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Mil/profile) for the beta-work!


End file.
